Two hearts apart in solace, like a bruised and beaten sky
Two beats in open gesture; lonely portents and omens
Merging together like a pale of rosy light meets the ridge’s crest
From ashes and soot, a flickering tendril arises--a struggle
Between dignity and relief; then the face of change appears
Like a livid orange burst; discovery and its thrill breaks a Sadness, like thoughtlessness Cast into a pit, and the flame, Now a heightening ascendant, radiates waves of heat that Penetrate to the inner
Core, washing away hovering streaks of mist from a tortured Mind, Bringing crisp and Clean with a closeness forever deep
Inside the skin; and a heal scurries to find that what
It needs to mend, and the wounds they fade as does the hills
Which roll away in a blaze of green like blithe suggestions.
Now the sun’s rays, bursting like fiery pillars from above, no Longer pale rose in the east, Etched and burned through and Through The body inside; all the joy and peace, like Captive slaves,
Let loose to run free and stand as monuments;
Monuments of stone and great weight, a testament to eternity’s Length. The dreams, a Sage and loving cocoon of wonder and Beauty now,bring merciful thoughts, blessings--Those for which God is Famous.Only sweet mercy abounds. A new life has awakened;
Born from despair; it is creation and hope everlasting.
Courage and strength take pathways of direction; a balance restored, a renewal, a lasting Salvation and completeness,
A testimony of one from two; two hearts, two minds, two souls
Making the long walk together hand-in-hand, enveloped within the brightest Day.Harmony and love has found its way. Together now, we’re in Heaven.
She moves inside me now
And this was the day I met her
Mystic Rose, aren't you the sweetest thing. Your user name is quite poetic in itself. If you pulled anything out of that poem, then I've done something right somehow. I tried to portray two lost and searching souls that begin to merge. Me and my metaphors and simile---too excess!
The best and most precious holidays, my friends. Live to love.
I, too, once loved a girl who looked a bit like that… Naturally white blonde hair and light blue eyes from her Scandinavian roots. But she rather put me in a quandary when she announced publicly to a group of people at a church retreat, "All of my boyfriends are conscientious objectors."
I was opposed to the Vietnam War, but because of my disability, my draft status was 1Y… Undesirable. I did have some desire to prove my manhood in the military, but didn't tell her, and glad that I couldn't go to war or I may have come home demoralized like so many. Anyway, she shortly left me for a sculptor who sculpted a bust of her breasts.
Ron